


some say, in ice

by laireshi



Category: Marvel 616, New Avengers (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Cold, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 14:01:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7717573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laireshi/pseuds/laireshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve's last thought was, <i>Tony will come for me</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	some say, in ice

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for betaing to [Muccamukk](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Muccamukk/pseuds/Muccamukk) :) She's also a terrible, terrible enabler, who made me write it.
> 
> This is written for round 8 of Cap-IM Tiny Reverse Bang, for [the very pretty art](http://capim-tinybang.tumblr.com/post/148539440088/title-bring-me-in-out-of-the-cold-artist) by [musicalluna](http://www.stepladderink.tumblr.com/).  
> Also a fill for my Cap-IM bingo card--a picture square of Iron Man carrying an unconscious Captain America.
> 
> (title and quote from Robert Frost's _Fire and Ice)_

_Some say the world will end in fire,_  
 _Some say in ice_.

His last thought was, _Tony will come for me._

Tony always did, after all—even before Steve ever met him, Tony saved him from the ice.

Tony would save him again.

But then there was just darkness, and pain, and deep, sharp coldness.

***

He woke up and each breath felt as if someone was stabbing him, the air so icy he feared it was going to freeze him from the inside.

It was wrong: Tony should’ve come. What if he got captured too? What if he was _hurt_? Steve—Steve should be strong enough to get out of here on his own—but he didn’t even know where here was, and the cold settled around him like chains, pushing him down.

He thought of Tony’s blue eyes like the sky on the sunniest day, of Tony’s warm smile in the morning, and he found the strength to move, just his wrists, just to get the blood moving—but there were metal handcuffs holding him in place. He tried to fight, but it was too much; hard metal, the ice, the darkness and the pain everywhere—he fell down again, felt like he’d never stopped falling.

***

Everything was still cold, except for his chest; it was as if someone cut him with a heated blade; unnatural hotness that made him sick to his core, that made him want to scream if only he could’ve opened his mouth, that still wasn’t quite enough to _warm him up_.

He wondered what that meant, and then thought, _how many years am I losing now_?

Maybe Tony hadn’t come because he’d died years ago.

Maybe Steve had lost his life, his world again, and hadn’t even noticed when. It’d be worse this time around: Tony was not someone Steve was willing to lose, now or ever; Tony had helped Steve put his life back together, and Steve doubted he could do it all on his own again.

Tony was everything; Steve wished he’d told him that.

He tried to open his eyes: if he couldn’t move, maybe at least he could _see_ , but even that was too difficult, he couldn’t raise his eyelids—or maybe he’d gone blind.

The heat in his chest slowly grew as cold as the rest of him, and Steve wasn’t sure which was worse: to have the reminder of life, even one so painful, or to have nothing but the ice.

It was only unfair he could still think.

***

It was as if someone was plunging frozen needles under his skin, an endless torture, and yet, Steve knew he didn’t want Tony to try and sacrifice himself for him. He didn’t want him to get lost too.

But . . . What if Tony simply didn’t care? What if Extremis took even that from him?

Steve’s eyes were burning, and he still couldn’t open them, couldn’t try; and his tears were like drops of ice under his eyelids.

_Tony_. Tony would keep him safe.

(Unless . . .)

Steve wouldn’t think about it again.

(He couldn’t stop.)

***

There was a loud sound that Steve couldn’t quite identify, and that made him realise that he hadn’t actually _heard_ anything in—hours? Days? _Years_?

He tried to fight against his bounds again, and couldn’t, not even sure what was happening to him; why he couldn’t move, why everything was cold like the Arctic sea.

Another sound—an explosion, Steve’s memory provided. And another, whirring, fast— _repulsors_.

Tony.

Steve couldn’t move. But he had to warn Tony—he wasn’t even sure about what, but he had to, he—

“Steve!” Iron Man’s voice, and yet, Steve could recognize the worry in it. Soft steps.

Then nothing.

_Please don’t leave_ , Steve thought. _Please don’t leave me here_.

Then more sounds: yelling, Tony’s panicked voice—did he take off the faceplate?—then a sure, calm voice of a doctor.

Strange, then.

Unless it was an illusion. Unless Steve really was back in the ice, conscious and hallucinating now.

_Please be real. Please be all right_.

“Captain, can you hear me?” Strange must’ve come closer. Then, “Logan, Luke, keep Iron Man out of here until my spell is done, I can’t risk distractions.”

“You betcha,” Logan said, and what does it mean _keep Iron Man out of here_ , Steve _wanted to see Iron Man_ , and he wanted to see that but he couldn’t—

He could hear Tony yelling, arguing, and then something like metal meeting metal—silence.

“I’m sorry, Captain; this might take a while. I need a bit of peace to attempt this spell.”

Steve wanted to say that he understood, but he was still hurting all over, and he wanted _Tony_ , and maybe it was a good thing he couldn’t speak, if this is what he’d say.

_I need Tony_.

(But he did. He needed him to push away the cold.

He needed him to be real, and here, to prove Steve wrong when he considered Extremis.)

For a long while, nothing happened.

Strange was chanting in a language Steve didn’t understand—but Steve only kept growing colder, and colder; and maybe—maybe he should try to stop breathing, it hurt too much, it—

It grew worse, for a second, and Steve screamed.

“Logan, I need Tony now!” Strange yelled towards the door.

Steve kept screaming. His chest was a bright point of pain, but aside from that, every part of him felt frozen, like it’d never be warm again, like he’d never move again—

“Steve?” Tony asked.

Steve wanted to move towards him—and he could, now—and he screamed, so Strange must’ve done something . . . Steve took a deep breathe that made him tear up, but he opened his eyes. Strange was sitting at the floor, looking exhausted. Tony was two steps in the room, as if he wasn’t sure if he could come closer.

“Oh my god, Steve,” he said in horror.

“You came,” Steve rasped out.

“I’ll always come, you should know—” Tony stopped himself. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Steve wasn’t sure what Tony was apologising for and didn’t quite care. He tried to sit up, and couldn’t, his muscles too week, and he was still so very cold, he felt like he could succumb to the ice very easily again.

Then Tony seemed to come to a decision, as he nodded to himself, and crossed the remaining metres to Steve, stepped next to him, and after another long—way too long, everything was taking too long here—moment, he reached down to Steve.

He touched Steve’s shoulder—and then he was moving away, spitting, “Fuck!”

“Steve, just, lie still for me,” Tony said.

It wasn’t as if Steve could move, not really—and he always trusted Tony.

So he didn’t even shiver when Tony extended his left hand and fired at the chains around Steve’s wrist, and then turned back and did the same to his legs.

“Oh, Steve.” Tony’s voice was trembling.

Steve tried to sit up, too fast, but he couldn’t stay lying down any longer—and Tony was there, helping him up, because Tony always knew what Steve needed and always came for him.

They stayed like that, Tony awkwardly helping Steve up, Steve resting his on Tony’s chest plate—warm to the touch, so wonderfully warm.

And then Tony pulled him closer still, until Steve was basically enveloped by Tony, being tightly hugged, and finally somewhere approaching warm again.

Finally safe.

“I’m sorry,” Tony kept repeating in his ear, though, and Steve—Steve was the one who should be sorry, for doubting him. “I should’ve found you sooner, I—I’m so sorry, Steve, please—and oh god you’ve been tortured _by an ice demon_ for a week and I’m talking about me, Steve, what can I—”

_Ice demon._

_A week._

But Tony was here.

Steve shook his head, tried to pull Tony closer—he was still so very weak, but Tony went willingly.

“Thank you,” Steve told him, “thank you for coming, always.” Tony had to understand Steve wanted to see him. Steve could never blame him. And he—he didn’t have any idea what had happened to him, and he wasn’t looking forward to _learning_ what that was, but for now—for now he didn’t have to. For now, he had Tony. Because he came. Of course he came.

“I thought you were dead,” Tony whispered.

“I was afraid I would sleep through another century in the ice,” Steve confessed.

Tony laughed in that way he used when he didn’t want to cry, and then he looked at Steve, really looked, and Steve felt almost dizzy from all that focus.

They were close enough already, cuddling like their lives depended on it—and maybe Steve’s did; the Iron Man’s armour was so warm—but it wasn’t about the physics of it, he knew even in his current state.

Steve leant in just a bit, he couldn’t move more, but it was enough: Tony’s lips met him halfway, and Tony’s tongue was hot and his suddenly bare hands were just warm enough against Steve’s cheeks, and it was perfect.

The ice might’ve been a demon this time—but Tony saved him again.

He hoped Tony knew Steve would do the same for him, always. That Steve loved him so much.

Steve didn’t even protest when Tony, save for his gauntlets and helmet still in the full Iron Man armour, lifted him up and carried to the Quinjet.

Doctor Strange was following them, but one thing was sure: they were going back home.

Steve was still cold, but it wouldn’t last.

He leant back in his seat and watched Tony pilot the jet.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Unsettled Dreams (Who Says It's Ice Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9659519) by [Neverever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neverever/pseuds/Neverever)




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